Don't Jump Part II: The Aftermath
by Teobi
Summary: Sequel to 'Don't Jump, Not Today'. The others find out about Gilligan's dream and are horrified that he would think about throwing himself off the cliff.


**A/N:** In 'Don't Jump, Not Today', Gilligan dreams of jumping off the cliff because he thinks the others hate him. This short sequel one-shot shows how the others reacted to the news.

* * *

The Skipper spent the rest of the morning biting his nails and worrying about Gilligan and finally he could take it no more. He knocked shyly on the door to the girls' hut and went in tentatively when they said 'come in'. He promised himself that he wouldn't upset the girls but in minutes they were sobbing their hearts out.

"Poor Gilligan!" cried Mary Ann, her sweet little face a picture of dismay. "Why didn't he tell us how he felt?"

"I guess he didn't want us to worry," Skipper shrugged, patting a weeping Ginger on the shoulder.

Ginger sniffed delicately into a lace handkerchief. "I was in a movie once about a man from Europe who followed a woman all the way to America because he loved her and when he finally found her she had already gotten married to someone else, so he threw himself off a tall building." Ginger sobbed into the handkerchief some more while Mary Ann dabbed at her mascara streaked eyes. "On the way down he hit two flagpoles and an awning and landed on a truckbed full of mattresses. It was called 'The Bouncing Czech.'" She blew her nose loudly and her creamy shoulders trembled.

"But what about Gilligan?" Mary Ann whimpered. "What do we do about Gilligan?"

"Well, we mustn't make a fuss," Skipper said. "He's already upset over that dream he had. Let's just try to be nicer to him without letting him know we've talked about this."

"But we are nice to him!" Mary Ann cried. "We love Gilligan!"

"I guess he doesn't always see it that way," Skipper sighed. "I guess I don't help by yelling at him all the time."

Ginger fixed him with an accusing glare. "_We_ don't yell at him," she pouted.

Mary Ann sniffled. "But we do sometimes call him clumsy, and troublesome. And there was that time you started writing your memoirs and they were all about how Gilligan got us into this mess."

"Let's face it, we all have a part in this," Skipper said, sadly. "And Gilligan always means well, no matter how many times he messes up, his heart's always in the right place. I say we make an extra effort to be nice to him from now on so that he knows how much we love him."

"I agree!" Ginger said, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Me too!" said Mary Ann, drawing herself up to her full height.

"But remember," Skipper said as the two girls headed for the door, "don't make a fuss. Don't let him know I told you about his dream!"

"Don't worry," said Mary Ann as she and Ginger exited the hut. "We won't!"

**oOoOoOo**

Gilligan was sweeping the floor when the girls came flying in unannounced. Caught completely off guard, he could only flail his arms and panic as the hysterical girls flung themselves at him.

"Oh, Gilligan!" cried Mary Ann, wrapping her arms around him as if she never wanted to let go.

"What- ?" Gilligan flustered and dropped the broom and didn't know where to put himself.

"Skipper told us about your dream!" Ginger wailed, burying her head in his neck.

"WHAT?" Gilligan yelped, spitting out a mouthful of flaming red tresses.

"He told us you jumped off the cliff!" Mary Ann sobbed, soaking the front of his shirt with tears.

"Mary Ann, it wasn't for real, it was just a dream!" Gilligan protested, trying to avoid Ginger's ruby red lips kissing him on the cheek.

"He told us you thought about it for real," Ginger cooed, trying to kiss him again.

Gilligan squirmed and wriggled. "That doesn't mean I was gonna do it for real!"

"But you thought about it, because you thought we hated you!" Mary Ann blubbed. "But we don't hate you, Gilligan. We love you. More than you know!"

Before Gilligan had time to respond to the weeping girl wrapped around his torso, the hut door flew open again and the Howells came running in, their faces fraught with anguish.

"Gilligan! Dear boy, _whatever _made you think we didn't love you?" Mrs. Howell cried, her voice trembling. She made a beeline for the First Mate and fussed around him, patting him on the head and stroking the hair out of his eyes, straightening his collar over and over again as Ginger and Mary Ann messed it up. Mr. Howell stood at a polite distance watching Gilligan struggling in the embraces of three hysterical women.

"I still don't know how he does it, by Jove!" the millionaire muttered, dabbing the corner of his eye.

For the third time the door opened and this time the Professor calmly entered, followed at last by a very sheepish Jonas Grumby. Seeing his Little Buddy writhing desperately in the clutches of three sobbing women, the big man blushed and twiddled his fingers together.

"You told them?" Gilligan babbled, twisting his face away from another assault by Ginger's lips.

"It may have slipped out in conversation," the Skipper admitted.

"Slipped out in conversation?" Gilligan repeated. "I'm just waiting for Gladys and a couple of headhunters to show up and then we can _really_ start the party!"

"Sorry," Skipper blushed, while the Professor stood with his arms folded and a lopsided half-smile on his face, thoroughly amused by the whole scene in front of him.

"Well, Gilligan," he said, "you certainly know how to draw a crowd."

"All I was doing was sweeping the hut!" Gilligan protested. "And now look at it. I'll have to start all over again!"

"I'll do it!" Mary Ann beamed, hugging him even tighter. "You sit right down and I'll sweep the hut, and then I'll bake you the biggest coconut crème pie you've ever seen in your life!"

"Aw, Mary Ann, you don't have to do that," Gilligan drew back and beamed down at her, his dimples flashing. "Sweep the hut, I mean!"

"Bake you a pie?" Mary Ann beamed back.

"Oh, _yeah_," Gilligan grinned, heartily.

"Gilligan," said the Professor, stepping forward. "It is most unfortunate that you interpreted our occasional lack of patience for hostility. I must reassure you that we and we alone are responsible for our actions and the fact that we are sometimes unable to keep our tempers in check is not in any way your fault and you mustn't punish yourself because of it. Rather, it is we who must temper our outbursts and behave in a way which is compatible with your genuine desire to assist us in our endeavours to remove ourselves from this island."

Gilligan blinked. "Huh?"

"We're sorry we sometimes get mad at you," the Skipper interpreted. "It's just as much our fault when things go wrong."

"Hold on there a minute!" Mr. Howell protested, but was silenced with a warning look from his wife.

"Oh." Gilligan grinned. Then he frowned slightly. "But I don't blame _you_ guys when things go wrong."

"Exactly," the Professor smiled. "Which is why we mustn't always blame you."

"Even when it is my fault?"

The Professor shook his head fondly. "We're a team, Gilligan. The seven of us, a team. We all work together and it's unfair to lay all the blame purely on one person's shoulders."

"Even when it _is _my fault?"

"Don't push it, Little Buddy," the Skipper grinned affectionately.

Ginger's lips advanced towards Gilligan again and this time he wasn't quick enough to avoid a full smacker on the lips.

"Yuck!" he shouted.

"'_Yuck'_?" cried Ginger, appalled. "Gilligan, I'll have you know Ginger Grant's kisses are desired by men all over Hollywood!"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Ginger, this isn't Hollywood!" Gilligan countered.

"You can say that again," Ginger sulked.

"This isn't Hollywood," Gilligan said again.

"Well, I'm so hurt by that, I might just throw myself off the cliff," Ginger pouted, her green eyes flashing with sultry indignation.

"Okay, okay," Gilligan said, his face going red. "I get your point."

Everyone crowded around Gilligan and began hugging him, kissing him and slapping him on the back. His protests became more and more feeble until he seemed to be positively basking in the attention, shyly smiling and blushing at all the attention being lavished on him by all of the other castaways.

Especially one particular castaway.

"Don't ever leave us, Gilligan," Mary Ann murmured, her eyes closed and her face pressed against his chest. "I don't know what we'd do without you." She snuggled closer, clinging to him like a limpet as the others crowded around and threatened to jostle her out of prime position. Then she lifted her face towards his. "I don't know what _I'd _do without you," she said, softly.

Gilligan smiled down at the young farm girl and put his right arm around her while his left arm continued to fend off Ginger.

"I won't ever leave you, Mary Ann," he smiled, gently laying his cheek against her hair and breathing in the scent of her shampoo. "I promise."

End *smiley emoticon*


End file.
